Desert Dreams
by never-give-up-hope2
Summary: Sometimes the people who you have seen the least, turn out to help you the most. (AU Somalia story)
1. Long Gone And Moved On

**Hi guys :) This is my new story, I promise I have not abandoned 'dear diary' but I was um... _pushed _into posting this. This is actually my friend Amy's idea (Shortcake99 - check out her fics) and I maintain it's her fic and I just wrote it for her but she wouldn't post it and I wasn't writing it for nothing so here this is (and we have argued way too much about this). I actually intended to post this all in a oner for Amy's birthday but she wants it now and since it's her idea, I had no choice. You can expect updates every three or four days maybe. **

**Disclaimer: I'm too ill and stuffed up to even think about a funny one. I don't own it. There. I said it. Are you happy now? **

**P.S. the first segment is written by Amy. **

**P.P.S - Amy, please don't kill me. **

* * *

I'm_ looking hard in the mirror_

_But I don't fit my skin _

_It's too much to take_

_It's too hard to break me_

_From the cell I'm in_

_'~Long Gone and Moved On' The Script~_

The darkness of the small, cramped space clouded over the confined cell leaving it in utter darkness. The rare thunder cracked in the sky, the even rarer bolt of lightning flashing in the sky, allowing the flicker of light that identified the single occupant of the cell. The bruise covering her right eye was only visible for a slight second but it was still there. That hit threw her head back, crashing it against the black rim of the unstable and wooden chair. Her frame hang off the chains on the wall as her skin rotted and wrinkled as the food her body craved was denied.

Her hair hung like a frame around her face, shielding her from the outside world. Her clothes, ripped and ragged, torn away from her body like food from the plate of a hungry child. Her feet black and dirty like the rest of her body, past the feeling of pins and needles long ago.

The open wounds on her back gapped open inviting infection in, allowing it to imbed itself into her bloodstream. The blood that tickled down her arms and dripped onto the floor like a broken drainpipe undeniably made from a sharp knife, sliced into her skin only hours before. Her uncooperativeness only caused her captors to hit her faster, harder treating her like a punching bag in the gym, everybody having a turn fuelled by anger as she did not crack, did not utter a word.

The Star of David that lay underneath the sand, somewhere, would have shimmered in the moonlit night, the gold reflecting the rays back into the sky giving light to the situation. The precious pendant holding years of sentimental value now lost forever with no hope of being retrieved.

The banquet that sat before her glistened in the moonlight as her captors taunted her with the prospect of food. The small golden bell placed in her hand reminded her that the nourishment was only a ring away but she did not shake it. Food or no food, loyalty came first.

The barely visible red light in the top corner of her cell shone sharp like a laser across the tiny room, her every action filmed most likely for future use, and no one wanted to imagine what for. The tiny camera imbedded in the walls of her cell, the wire running across the top of the wall and exiting through the small hole carved in the top of the door.

The hope gone from within her heart and the passion lost from her soul. Ziva David was all alone and no one was there to help her.

**~NCIS~**

The sun rises over the desert, illuminating the small base camp set up just outside Merca, Somalia. It brings with it the morning but sense of time is redundant for Ziva who hasn't slept anyway. It shouldn't have been a surprise for her or the agents who were tasked with guarding her bedside - after all, the woman hasn't slept well in four months - but it was. All of them had thought that with her being so tired she would have slept right on until afternoon. All of them thought wrong.

The mattress is too soft, the blanket is too warm and the water placed on her bedside is too clean. Everything is too lovely and Ziva feels like she doesn't deserve it; she knows she doesn't deserve it. After all the wrongs she has committed and after all the lies and the betrayal she has been rescued. It isn't real, she tells herself, it couldn't be. For it to be real, there has to be someone who thought she deserves a second chance and for so long, Ziva has believed there isn't.

The entrance flaps of the tent open and the sunshine falls in, accompanied by a 5ft "11" blonde woman in cargo pants and a beige blouse that is rumpled after being slept in. Cocking an eyebrow, the woman states, "You have not slept."

Ziva stares at her wide eyed, still unsure that whom she was looking at is real and not a drug-induced, water-deprived hallucination. Clearing her sore throat, Ziva finds herself unable to look at the woman who she has not seen in over five years, has not spoken to in over six months and yet has saved her all the same. "No, I have not," she whispers and resigns herself to the scolding and maternal clucking that is sure to come.

The woman does neither and instead sits at the end of Ziva's bed, shooing away the poor, sleep-deprived agents with a flick of her wrist. Ziva smiles shyly at the rough-sewn blanket because she's missed her. A lot. Not that she would ever admit it of course. "So," the woman says, shaking her hair out of the ponytail it was previously in, "it's been a long time."

Ziva nods. "Yes, it has," she manages to choke out. The words start a coughing fit and her companion sighs and gives her the tumbler of water. Once she is done, Ziva looks at the woman and asks, "Why are you here, Fearne?" with a voice that's oh-so tired and full of hopelessness.

"Needed an excuses to see an old friend," Fearne shrugs, "this was prefect." And Ziva smiles because only her old friend Fearne could make light of four months of torture without making fun. But then the smile dies and the flame in her eyes extinguish. Fearne sees it too and she places a gentle but firm hand on the back of Ziva's.

"Hey," she whispers softly, "you're fine now, I promise. Now come on, I'll get one of these guys to bring you round a wheelchair so we can take you to medical. Doc couldn't do much last night since you were so zonked out." Fearne stands and claps her hands together.

Ziva looks up at her friend in alarm and starts to shake her head. No doctors and no nurses. Nobody can see her like this, all broken and depleted. Fearne shakes her head also and just says, "No excuses for this one. You need to see the doctor and you need a wheelchair."

Ziva starts to protest before she realises that she does need a wheelchair. Her ribs feel like they're broken and her leg is at an odd angle. Sighing in defeat, she leans back against her pillow and closes her eyes for a second. Fearne shakes her shoulders gently and she growls and shakes her shoulders away, regardless of her sore ribs. "Leave me alone."

"No," Fearne says stubbornly. "Come on. I need someone to translate what all these people are saying. I don't speak a word of Arabic."

An hour later, the doctor has finished her preliminary examination with Ziva and has cleared her to fly but she will need her more serious cuts tended to. First though, a bath. Just the thought sends Ziva into a panic attack. The thought of hot water or bathing in general brings it on and it takes a good few minutes to calm her down. The compromise is a cold sponge down by a female nurse while Ziva sits shivering in the heat of the Somali sun.

While she is being washed, Ziva wonders at what point she got so afraid. It didn't just happen overnight. Fear develops over a period of time and she wants to know what her captors did to her to make her so afraid. Perhaps she doesn't. Ziva David hasn't been this terrified since she was a little girl. That was one aspect of her training that she actually liked- being taught to not feel. With no feeling comes no pain and with no pain comes relief.

Really, she should not be hurt that her father did not come for her. He has always out his country before family, nothing has changed and she has no reason to be upset. Yet, there is some part of her that is. Because he was still her father, still her daddy, he was still the man that she looked up to as a little girl. And although she had been exposed to the true Eli David for a long time, part of her still harboured fantasies that her father was a good man, a clean man. Not one full of tricks and deception.

God, how stupid she was.

**~NCIS~**

Once she is dressed in clean desert khakis, Ziva is given a curtained off bed to sleep in because, as the doctor says, her body needs a chance to heal. But of course she can't sleep because sleep is when her walls come down and nightmares creep in unsuspectingly. It's deserved but it doesn't make it any easier for her to swallow.

Fearne gently pushes aside the curtain and walks in softly but not for fear of waking Ziva because they both know she's awake. Pushing away some of the blankets discarded at the bottom of the bed, Fearne sits down and puts a soft hand on Ziva's ankle, the one place that can be touched without introducing a panic attack or flashback. Zia doesn't turn to look at her and continues to stare straight ahead.

"Remember that time we were on assignment in Poland? How I couldn't understand a word they were saying and you kept shaking your head like I was just deadweight?" Fearne laughs a sad little laugh and Ziva turns to look at her.

"You were in the shower and I needed a word so I asked this group of teenage school kids what the word 'agent' was in Polish and they gave me an expletive. Then later that day you were speeding down the motorway and we got pulled over and then the officer says something to me and I try to say we're agents and then I end up swearing at him and you and the officer are just staring at me opened mouthed. Then of course you came in and apologised to him and we spent the rest of the day laughing," Fearne laughs at the memory and something that looks a bit like a smile reaches Ziva's eyes.

The assignment had been the start of their friendship. At first, Ziva had been a hurting twenty year-old who wanted nothing to do with MI6 agents trying to win the approval of her father. She had tried to dismiss Fearne in the hopes that she would disappear soon enough but two days into the assignment they were laughing and giggling like teenagers.

"You became my friend," Ziva whispers so quietly that Fearne almost misses it, "I was hurting and angry but you made me feel happy when I did not deserve it."

"Aw, Ziva," Fearne says, "You've always deserved happiness."

There's something in the way she speaks that makes Ziva cry. It's not great, big, shuddering sobs or even small sobs; tears just make their way down her face because she feels so confused. She hasn't spoken to Fearne in over six months and she still came and rescued her. Ziva spoke to her father four months ago and he didn't rescue her. NCIS…. that's different.

Eventually, Ziva falls asleep, more out of exhaustion than anything else. Fearne creeps out of the little curtained off area and goes to the temporary office they've set up for the mission. Retrieving a piece of paper from under the stack of files, Fearne takes her satellite phone and dials the number that the piece of paper provides.

"Hello? Yes, this is MI6 Agent Fearne Granger, could you please pass a message along to the Director? No, I don't want to speak to him myself…. Can you please pass along the message?… Thanks… Yes, just tell him that his daughter is safe."


	2. Won't Stop

**Hey guys! I'm updating this again today because I really wanted to - don't get used to it. This fic is going to be about eight chapters long - maybe more maybe less. It's also an AU take on Ziva's rescue if she wasn't rescued by NCIS. The chapters will alternate between Tony's POV and Ziva's. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing in this fic apart from Fearne. Except I don't even really own her - because she's Amy's creation.**

* * *

_From 1000 miles apart_

_Feels so cold_

_Felt just like its ten shades of winter_

_And I need the sun_

~'_Won't stop' One republic ~_

It's about 5am when Tony slinks into the bullpen and heads straight for his desk. His head hurts and he regrets spending last night downing whiskey as if it was water. The headache is unbearable and he should have stayed in bed until at least seven thirty which is when he usually gets up but lying in bed let him think. He doesn't want to think.

Ziva's dead. Two words he never though he'd hear in the same sentence. They don't belong together and yet it's remarkably easy to say them. Of course he doesn't, because he can't. Saying them would be accepting that Ziva is dead and he's not quite sure he's ready for that yet.

It's been about three weeks since he found out and everything has sort of blurred into one. One drink at night has turned into many and he's in serious danger of becoming an alcoholic. Tony's seen these people, when he used to be a cop; the ones that drink just to get through the day and before they know it, they're drinking up to two bottles a day. He used to swear to himself that he's never become like that but he thinks he forgot that promise after he unscrewed the cap of the first bottle. Of course he's not quite sure.

His apartment is suffocating but here isn't. It's not busy at five in the morning which is the way he intended it. Her desk is empty and he wants it to stay like that. Tony doesn't want a new team member, one that would replace Ziva just like Ziva had replaced Kate because Ziva's not replaceable. Every time he looked at the new agent, he would silently be comparing them to Ziva, judging them and he has enough sense left to know that this wouldn't be fair.

It isn't how she would have wanted to go. Ziva would have wanted to die in something like a gunfight or knife fight or saving someone's ass or protecting her country. Tony knew her well enough to know that that's what she would have wanted, even if she hadn't said as much in words. A ship sinking is too calm, too peaceful. While the survivors of Titanic might disagree, it was too secluded. Nobody is interested in the sinking of a cargo ship called the Damocles. Except maybe him. Sometimes, when it's late at night and he's drifting off, he'll see Ziva drowning, gasping for air and it makes him feel like crying. Except he doesn't because he hasn't really cried since his mom died and that's when he was eight. Now he's a middle aged man who's having nightmares about his (ex?) partner drowning. Tony's not quite sure if he's allowed to cry over that.

This isn't fair. Other people miss her too. People like McGee and Ducky, even if they don't show it the same way Tony and Abby do. Abby shows it in the way she cries and the way she's tacked up Ziva's picture in her lab, next to Kate's. Tony shows it in the way he's listless, focusing on something the other's can't see, the way his eyes are red rimmed when he comes into work in the morning and the way he smells distinctly of alcohol.

Tony opens up a file on his computer and sees that it's labelled 'Ziva'. Tentatively, he opens it and sees about a dozen pictures from LA fill the screen. God, had he really taken that many of Ziva? Geez, this is enough for a stalking conviction. It doesn't stop him from looking at them, spending at least a minute on each picture. She looked so may sound cliché but she looked as if she was free from any burden. This was before they knew abou Jenny and before Vance broke up the team and before they even knew a man called Michael Rivkin existed. God, how he wishes it has stayed that way.

What the hell happened to him? Where did Anthony DiNozzo the playboy go, huh? The only woman he has even really paid attention to (as in concentrating on what they're saying - not _that_ kind of attention ) in months is Abby and that's because Abby is practically his sister and it's impossible to ignore Abby. She makes him feel better about himself in a way nobody else he has ever met has quite managed. She's always opne for a hug and always has a smile and something crazy to say that makes him smile whether he feels like it or not. He's known Abby for about nine years now. He sees her more than he sees his dad, or any other member of his biological family for that matter.

Tony's head hurts so much, yet so does everything else so it pales slightly in comparison. Damn the stupid bottle of whiskey that he keeps emptying and then replacing 'in case of emergencies'. Damn Michael Rivkin for starting this whole mess or better yet, Damn Eli David. Damn Mossad and Damn the guy that started it! Damn everything!

And of course he has to wonder what would his life be like if Ziva had never appeared in it. It's a difficult question because of course he doesn't have a straight answer. He would probably be the same person more or less. His life wouldn't be worse because he would never have known her and you can't miss something you never had. You also can't long for something you've never known. But that's the thing, he has known her and he feels things for her - more than any other federal agent would feel for their partner. He misses her and he just wants her back at that damn desk across from his, staring at him with those big brown eyes.

Of course he won't pretend that what she said and did to him in Tel Aviv didn't hurt because it did. He won't pretend that he was angry at the way she was treating him because he didn't deserve it - he was just trying to protect her. Yet he sees that maybe he went about it the wrong way. Maybe he shouldn't have just thrown all those things about Michael in her face. Ziva had obviously known Michael for a long time and she had every right to be upset that he was dead. It was just that Tony couldn't see it at the time, didn't want to see how she could mourn a man like that. Except he does now.

_That's the annoying thing about hindsight, it's always 20/20. _


	3. Unwelcome

**Hey. So this is the update. I really hope you like it and please, pretty please, review! If you are reading this and if you like it, well could you leave a little line or two telling me that you did. If you don't, then you don't. I'm not going to beg and I don't hold stories hostage for reviews. **

**(Yes, Amy, I know you've reviewed and I appreciate that so much!)**

**Disclaimer: I'm not even technically old enough to have a job, please explain to me how I could own NCIS?**

* * *

_I knew a girl, she told me_

_'you don't want to know what they've done to me'._

_When she was done crying she just cracked a joke,_

_and she has a smile for every thunderstorm._

_-Chris Pureka, "Unwelcome."_

"Welcome to Charing Cross Station," an automated female voice welcomes. Ziva awakes with a jolt and starts to panic. White walls and white floors are all she can see and it makes her think she's back at the camp. It's not until a voice whispers soothing words in her ear that she can see she's in a car and the white walls are actually a tunnel, to which they've just come to the end.

When they car door opens, Ziva can see they are in a tall room, with catwalks all the way up. People all around stare at her as Fearne leads her out the car and it makes her slightly uncomfortable. Part of her training has been to remain invisible. If she can't be invisible, if she can't fight, then Ziva has nothing left. And it's not nearly as depressing as it should be.

A man in a black suit with an earpiece whispers, "Copy that," and then steps forward and introduces himself to Ziva.

"My name is Agent Sayers. If you would like to follow me, I'll take you to the infirmary and we can discuss our options from there."

There's something about this man which suggests to Ziva that he isn't all that he appears. He reminds her a little too much of her father for her to feel completely at ease with him. Agent Sayers starts to walk off and Ziva almost wants to stay still, because who knows what will happen next.

Fearne pushes her forward and Ziva looks to her for reassurance because she can trust Fearne. An almost imperceptible nod is all it takes for the normally strong and sure Mossad Officer to shuffle forward awkwardly, keeping her head down so she can't see everybody staring.

She wonders how she got to this point.

There's too many doctors and nurses around her and soon they all blur into one. A small prick in her arm lets her fade into darkness. The nurses and doctors think it will be good for her, to rest, to sleep. Oh how wrong they are.

The drug causes sedation, not sleep. Ziva's brain is still wide awake and she is trapped into her world of nightmares, the drug too strong to escape the clutches of. There's Saleem and his henchmen for lack of a better word and there's all the people she has hurt. And Tony is there and all she can see is his face beneath hers, full of pain and full of hope that she might come to her senses. She didn't and it makes her finally escape sedation with a loud cry.

It must be at least two in the morning and she is alone in the infirmary. The moonlight filters in through the blinds and there is a comforting hum of traffic in the background. Ziva doesn't want anyone to come in and see her like this so she turns over on her side and tries to calm her heart rate. Somebody must have heard her because the door opens and closes softly and Fearne appears from the gloom.

And damn, Ziva's glad it's her.

"Hey, I heard your cry. Are you okay?" She asks, more out of politeness because they both know she's not.

There is a choked whimper and a nod of a head. Fearne sighs softly and sits down at the end of the bed, a sure indicator that she's not going anywhere until Ziva tells her what's wrong. Ziva doesn't because if she does, their relationship will be lost forever and she's lost enough already.

"I am… fine, Fearne," she manages to get out.

Fearne sighs again. "Ziva, what do you want? What do you want right now, right here, huh?"

Ziva ponders for a moment and when English fails her, she whispers in her native tongue, "Ani Mekava le'atid tov yoter."

Fearne clucks her tongue. "English, honey, or a language I can understand. You know I can't speak Hebrew. Don't shut me out."

English comes back to her and Ziva utters with a broken, child-like voice, "I hope for a better future."

The hours pass by in a blur of doctors, nurses and Agent Sayers makes a few appearances. Ziva wants to tell him to get lost but English words are heavy and unfamiliar on her tongue. To be fair, the man's not done anything wrong but he makes Ziva uncomfortable and she hates feeling uncomfortable so therefore she hates him.

MI6 wants her to give a formal report for their records; after all, rescuing a foreign agent from a terrorist camp not even in their jurisdiction is a big deal. Fearne tells the director's admin to stick it when he comes in for the third time, threatening him with dismemberment if he comes in here again today.

Fearne is just about to leave when Ziva's tongue dislodges itself and she blurts out, "Does Mossad know?"

Fearne turns back to Ziva and hears her unspoken question: _Does my father know I'm alive? _She nods once. "Yes, he does."

"Okay," comes the small reply and it almost seems as if Ziva shrinks into the bedcovers, her pale face merging with the slightly paler sheets. The mention of her father has the capacity to scare her in a way nothing else has been able to for a very long time.

Fearne can't leave her after that, not that she particularly wanted to anyway. Not when she looks so small and scared against the sheets. It's been a long time since Fearne has seen her like that, almost seven years.

_Constant channel jumping interrupts the flow of Polish on screen. Fearne wishes to see at least some English on the screen. She can't even figure out how to put on the freaking English subtitles. The MI6 recruitment agent had told her that her language skills would come in useful in all aspects of her career. Well they didn't freaking well tell her that she was going to be sent to freaking Poland when she couldn't speak Polish. At least they've been kind enough to throw in a young Mossad Officer who is half fluent in Polish. Too bad Ziva is asleep. _

_Fearne doesn't quite know what to think of Ziva yet. On one hand, she seems surly, older and arrogant. But on the other she seems young, afraid and sad. It's the last three that confuses her; Ziva is such a contradiction with even the little Fearne knows of her. All she knows if from the tiny, page-thick file that Mossad had sent MI6. Apparently Ziva David is a twenty year old, Jewish, Israeli with training in almost every martial art, knife and firearm. Oh, and she's also the daughter of the Mossad Deputy Director. Damn. Fearne knows that if she makes one wrong move with the Mossad Officer, It could quite potentially end her career. Not a comforting thought. _

_Deciding to leave the TV on some random Polish news channel, Fearne sighs and switches off her bedside lamp, already under the covers. It's a scratchy mattress but there are much worse places out there to sleep. It's only been about three minutes before there's soft whimpering, almost undetectable. Fearne quietly throws back the covers and gets out of bed, pausing only to turn on the bedside lamp. There, in the soft glow of the bulb, she can see her Mossad partner twisting and turning on the bed, looking as if she is in the realms of a nightmare. _

_All of a sudden, everything Fearne thought about the girl has vanished. She's now seeing Ziva David in an entirely different light than she can before. Then she snaps back into focus, Fearne gently sits down on the edge of the bed and starts to shake Ziva. Almost immediately, Ziva's awake and pointing a gun in her face. Two seconds later, she realizes who it is and lowers it, though not putting it away entirely. _

"_Yes?" Ziva asks._

"_I was just wondering if you were okay, you seemed to be having a nightmare," Fearne says, painfully aware about her accent is making her sound like a boarding school snob. _

_Ziva doesn't seem to notice though, rather the fight seems to go out of her and she deflates before Fearne's very eyes. Fearne can't help but pity the younger girl, who, at this moment in time, looks more like a fifteen year old than a twenty year old. _

"_I am… fine, Agent Granger," Ziva says and goes to turn away from Fearne, who, against her better judgement, grabs her arm to stop her. Neither part move and Fearne waits for the blow that is sure to come. Nothing happens. Ziva stares wide-eyed at her. _

"_You're not fine, Officer David. Let me help you. What was in your dream?" Fearne says softly, letting go of Ziva's arm. _

_Ziva looks at war with herself, as if she can't decide whether to trust Fearne or not. Eventually she does. "My little sister."_

_At first, Fearne can't see why dreaming about one's little sister could be so terrifying, and then she thinks to herself that something must have happened to Ziva's little sister. "What about your little sister?" _

"_She was… killed in a… a Hamas suicide bombing last month," Ziva whispers out and to her horror, tears start to make their slow descent down her face. Swiping them away quickly with her hand, Ziva looks at Fearne through watery eyes, almost begging her to say something, anything. _

"_Oh, I am so sorry," Fearne says and she means it too. If Ziva's twenty and her sister is younger… that almost doesn't bear thinking about. "How old was she?" _

_Fearne doesn't think Ziva's going to answer, but she does. "Sixteen." The words are choked, as if somebody has strangled them and twisted them beyond recognition. _

_And Fearne needs to do something, anything because otherwise she might start crying herself and that would make Ziva feel worse. She envelopes Ziva in an awkward hug and it's not too long before she feels a slight wet patch on her pyjama top. Fearne strokes Ziva's hair for a moment or two before letting go and making to return to her own bed. Before she can, however, she needs to ask one question because no longer can she see this little sister without a face. "What was her name?" _

"_Tali. Her name was Tali."_

"Ziva, I…"

"No," Ziva says, pushing herself up. "No, do not… do not go there. It was a long time ago," she says because she can't allow Fearne to go back to that time when her emotions weren't in check. She can't allow Fearne to go to the forbidden place in her heart. She won't. Because look where emotions got her.

"Just because it was a long time ago doesn't mean it's easier, Ziva. You know as well as I do that the 'time heals all wounds' saying that everybody spouts is crap. You know better than anyone that time doesn't make you forget a face or forget a life or forget a smile. I didn't know Tali but I sure as hell know what her death did to you. I won't let you go through that again! It hurt me to watch you go through that!" Fearne stars. At first it's a piece of advice but at the end it sounds like an argument. Then she takes one look at Ziva's face and instantly regrets shouting. Ziva's trembling so hard that it looks like she might shatter into thousands of irreplaceable pieces.

"I'm sorry."

Ziva shakes her head, the trembling calming now. "Do not apologise. It is a sign of weakness."

Fearne shakes her head in disbelief. "You don't work for him anymore and yet you still abide by his rules. Geez, I've got to learn how he does that. Man, I could use that for my 'probies'. I'd give anything for them to be that obedient," she says.

And for the first time in over four months, Ziva David laughs.


	4. Lullaby

**So this is one of my least favourite chapters, probably because it was the most difficult to write. Still, I hope you enjoy it and if you are readint this, please review! And for those of you who haven't heard, Cote de Pablo isn't coming back in Season 11. It's a sad time but she's an adult and can live her own life and make her own decisions, we need to respect that. Enjoy!**

* * *

_And if you can't tell, I'm scared as hell_

_'Cause I can't get you on the telephone_

'_Lullaby' ~ Nickelback _

McGee looks at Tony as if he is crazy, which he is to some extent. Nobody _ever _cries out 'no' when Gibbs asks them to gear up. It's simply not done. Nuh-uh. That's a good way to get a head-slap so hard that you'll be knocked into the middle of next year, or some other form of punishment which won't be pleasant.

However, Gibbs just looks at Tony, something akin to a smile on his face, and says, "no?" even though all three know that it's not a question. Tony says Saleem Ulman needs to be stopped which he does, but they all know that isn't why Tony is doing it. And nobody can blame him, because the relationship him and Ziva had was unique.

"Make your case," Gibbs says and walks off, motioning for Tony to follow him. The two make their way up to the Director's office, leaving McGee standing awkwardly with his weapon in one hand and his backpack in the other.

**NCIS**

It's terrifying, being up in front of the Director, Tony thinks. He's crazy, absolutely but there is nothing he can do about it. Tony's been thinking about this for weeks, if he really wants to do this, and while he wishes he didn't have to do it, he wants to all the same. Because damn it, he needs vengeance and damn it, Ziva needs to be avenged.

He really can't live without her. It's not him being dramatic and it's not synonymous with alone. He simply can't live without her because she is everything and she knew things that even his own father doesn't know. She knew how he used jokes as a cover screen but she never called him out on it. She knew that he really hated it when people assumed things about him and she knew that he was much like her in the way of crappy fathers.

Gibbs stops speaking and Tony knows that this is his cue. He clears his throat. "I would like permission to travel to Somalia to eliminate the terrorist camp. The leader of which is Saleem Ulman."

The Director has a look on his face which suggests that he knows exactly why Tony would like to do this. "Why should I let you go when I already have highly trained agents who are Middle Eastern specialists on the ground there?"

Damn Director Vance. Tony should have known that he was going to make this as difficult as possible for him. "I think it would be a very beneficial experience, sir."

And Tony knows he's said the right thing because the Director nods and smiles a little. He risks a look at Gibbs who nods. He's wondering when he became so serious. Usually, Tony would crack some jokes and very inappropriate comments but he thinks his childlike personality went down with the Damocles.

He thinks he's got this whole thing sorted. The Director will let him go to Somalia where he will kill Saleem Ulman or either he will get killed trying. He thinks he doesn't really mind whichever way it goes at the moment.

But then the Director says something that throws his course off completely.

"I'm sorry. Agent DiNozzo, but it looks like you're too late. The camp is no longer in existence. Saleem Ulman's body has been found in the compound along with all of his men."

"What? Who killed him?" Tony asks because it's the only thing he can do at the moment. Everything has been thrown off course and suddenly there's nothing left.

"I have an MTAC call in about ten minutes, Agent DiNozzo. Stick around and you might get the answers that you want."

A quick look at Gibbs confirms that he didn't know about any of this either. Tony didn't think his life could get any worse. With Ziva dead, he was at the bottom of a hole so deep that he couldn't see daylight. Now, with Ziva dead and not even a chance to get vengeance, he's dead at the bottom of that hole.

It isn't fair but nowhere it is written that life has to be.

**NCIS**

MTAC is dark when Tony trails in behind Vance and Gibbs. The screen has still to come to life and Tony is terrified. Not that he would admit it. But he's scared senseless because he wants to know what's happened and the truth can hurt sometimes. Damn it, he knows that. He knows it well.

It's clear that Vance doesn't know who's going to come up on the screen. His whole demeanour screams anxious as he hurries the technician to get whoever he is speaking with onto the screen. Eventually a grainy picture comes up and the trio can't make out who it is. The technician fiddles with a few buttons and eventually the grainy fuzz makes itself known as Eli David. It takes all of Tony's self control not to throw himself at the screen.

"Tell me what the hell is going on, Eli," Director Vance practically spits at the screen, "Why the hell are you on my screen?"

The Mossad Director is calm and collected, he has no reaction to the fellow Director's tone. "I believe this matter concerns the Somali terrorist training camp, yes? I was the one that planned the mission to take it down, therefore I am involved with the issue."

"So you were the reason that Saleem Ulman's body was found dead in his compound last week," Gibbs asks, his tone as calm as Eli's.

For once, Eli's mask slips and surprise is evident on his face. "No, I was not. The mission failed. Most of the team were killed. I thought this call was to discuss sending one of your agents to Somalia."

Gibbs and Vance and Tony exchange a glance.

"No, Eli. A team of ours went in to check the building and they found his body there. They also found a," Vance checks the file in his hand, "a ruby. Not a real one but close enough. Do you know what that could mean, Eli?"

"Yes. I know exactly what it means."

"Care to explain?"

Eli sighs and takes off his glasses. Rubbing them on the corner of his shirt, he slips them back on and addresses the trio. "It means that one of my daughter's friends has already done our job for us."

Vance sighs heavily, "Who is this friend?"

Eli presses a button on his phone and orders something in Hebrew. Less than a minute later, a man comes in with a thick file. Eli opens the file and begins reciting what's in it.

"Her name is Fearne Granger. She is a thirty year old MI6 operative who worked with my daughter seven years ago on an operation in Poland. She is fluent in French and Russian. She was born in Derby to a Scottish-French mother and an English father. She lived the first seven years of her life in St Petersburg. Her maternal grandmother is French and her maternal grandfather is Scottish. After that she moved around the United Kingdom a lot. Her mother is MI6 operative Agent O'Donnell - she uses her maiden name - and her father is MI5 operative Agent Granger. Her maternal grandmother was an Agent in France's DGSE - _Direction Générale de la Sécurité Extérieure_ - before retiring. I believe Agent Granger and my daughter remained good friend's after their operation in Poland."

"That's all certainly interesting, Eli, but what does this have to do with the ruby," Vance says.

Eli sighs again. "It is Agent Granger's signature, if you like. After every operation they went on, she would leave a ruby-like jewel. I believe , in this case, it is her way of taking credit for what happened."

"Is there anything else you know about the Somali mission, Director David?" Gibbs asks.

Eli shakes his head and closes the file in his hands. "No. I know how far my mission went. Ziva and Malachi got as far as Mogadishu when Ziva sent him back to us." Then Eli groans as he realizes his mistake.

Gibbs' anger is evident on his features. "What the hell do you mean she reached Mogadishu? We all believe that Ziva died when the Damocles sank! If you knew she survived then why the hell didn't you inform us!"

"She was no longer your liaison. No longer your concern. You did not need to know," Eli says calmly.

"You know as well as I do that people here care about her. Even if she walked away, we still care if she's alive or not. You know this, Eli! You knew she was alive after the sinking of the Damocles and you didn't tell us! What happened after the Damocles?" Gibbs spits out.

Tony holds his breath. He's not entirely sure if he wants to hear what comes next. What if she died a more horrible death than drowning? And all of a sudden he can't be here anymore, his legs start to take him in an unknown direction but Gibbs' arm on his stops him in his tracks.

Eli starts to speak again. "Ziva did not call in after her last sighting in Mogadishu. We had presumed her dead after the beginning of June. She is on our list of the fallen."

And Tony's heart stops once more. She's still dead. That tiny little glimmer of hope he had allowed to blossom has been destroyed. And he's not sure if he can do it again.

"However. As I was unceremoniously informed a few nights ago by Agent Granger, MI6 has rescued Officer David from the Somali camp."

The air is sucked out of the room and both Gibbs and Vance look at each other. Tony still can't see it though and he shouts, "What does that mean?" at the screen.

Eli frowns at his unruly behaviour but answers anyway. "It means, Agent DiNozzo, that Ziva David is alive."


	5. Comes and Goes

**You have no idea how long this one took me to write! A few weeks at least! I think it's one of my favourites though! I'm sorry for the piano overload at the end but I'm a pianist, what can I say? I would recommend listening to the last tune mentioned - it's beautiful! I'm sorry if this chapter doesn't flow, but I wrote it over a long period of time! Don't expect updates every day! I just really wanted to upload this!**

**Disclaimer: Dislaimed.**

* * *

_This one's for the lonely, the one's that seek and find_

_Only to be let down time after time_

_T__his one's for the torn down, the experts at the fall_

_Come on friends get up now you're not alone at all_

'_Comes and Goes' Greg Laswell _

"This is a very beautiful apartment," Ziva comments as she hobbles into the room.

"Yeah, I like it too. That's the only reason I keep it really," Fearne says, digging through her purse to pay the taxi driver who has brought up their bags.

Ziva eyes the spacious room critically, as if looking for some kind of flaw. She comes up empty, which she's not surprised at since it is a beautiful room. The walls are painted a cream colour that emphasises the space of the room and the floor is a polished hardwood that gleams. There is a rug that just begs to be walked over in bare feet and there's pictures on the wall which Ziva knows for a fact Fearne took herself.

The flight was long, too long to be enjoyable. Really, it should only have been a few hours to fly from Heathrow to Paris but they got delayed at either end. There was the matter of Ziva's passport and the matter of her leg to consider. It took Fearne's badge and a few strings to get them here.

"Remind me again why we are here?" Ziva asks, sitting down on the sofa with little grace. The whir of a fan somewhere in the room lifts her hair, making it flutter around her face.

"Really, Ziva? We're here for some relaxation time. Some time away from our respective agencies. It was either this or the family apartment in St Petersburg. I thought you might prefer Paris in September. I know I do," Fearne sighs, sitting down and pulling her hair out from it's pony tail. Her blonde hair falls perfectly straight and it makes Ziva envious because her hair is uncontrollable, wild, a lot like herself.

"I cannot stay with your forever, Fearne," Ziva says, worrying her bottom lip.

"I bloody well hope not," Fearne laughs, joking. The worry on Ziva's face, however, suggests that she's thinking otherwise.

"The point is, I cannot stay here. I need a job, Fearne, I need a … life."

Fearne tries to hide her smile. Ziva's always thinking five steps ahead of the future. "La'lechet ha'zerem."

Then it's Ziva trying to hide her smile, because that's Fearne's favourite Hebrew phrase from the few she knows. But the worry is still there, no matter what Fearne says. There is no place for her in Britain, no place for her in America, the only option is Israel or, more specifically, Mossad. The fact that it's the only option makes Ziva feel slightly sick.

Fearne notices the worry in her eyes and places a maternal hand on her knee. "I'm serious, Ziva. You can stay with me as long as you want. We have plenty of time to think about your future. The doctor says you won't be out of that cast for at least six weeks so it's not as if you'll be doing work anyway. And we need some time to explore Paris, besides. I doubt it that when you were here you got to see the sights."

And Fearne's right, Ziva thinks. The last time she was here she was carrying out a Mossad sanctioned assassination of a Syrian arms dealer who had evaded them for years. It didn't give her much time to adore the Eifel tower and Notre Dame. Ziva can't pretend she's ever had much interest in seeing those sights but she knows she will, thanks to a promise made years ago; sealed with blood and sweat and tears.

_There is a burst of gunfire from a little to the right. Another patrol to the left flinch slightly at the sudden, loud sound. The patrol in-between don't. They have grown accustomed to violence and bullets and death. _

_Ziva moves forward in a pattern and her fellow comrade - Adi Weinstein - follows behind her. Suddenly, from their spot behind a burnt out car, they see a the two sides opening rapid gunfire on each other. A quick nod and it's confirmed that the pair will be staying in their spot. They have some protection here an there is no use in getting themselves killed unnecessarily. _

_Adi looks at Ziva, who has been her best friend since they were nine years old. Sometimes, she remembers those two nine year olds and she wants to slap them stupid. She wants to slap the two stupid girls who make grand plans to be dancers when they grew up. Look what they've become instead and, after conscription is over, look what they'll be left with. Except maybe Ziva; her life already seems to be mapped out. Daddy David is Mossad Deputy Director and both have known for years that Ziva has no choice but to join. _

_A sudden shot comes out of nowhere and hits Adi in the abdomen. Surprisingly, it's Ziva's eyes who tear up first as she works furiously to keep pressure on the wound. She lays Adi on the ground and tells her all sorts of nice things, something that Ziva has never been known for is lying. Now, though, she chooses to break her reputation because brutal honesty will not help her friend. But neither will her lies. _

_Adi brings a hand to Ziva's face and wipes away the tears. She cannot bear to see her best-friend cry. She knows she's going to die, she accepted it long ago. You cannot be a soldier in the IDF and not accept death as your fate, eventually. Eventually, everybody dies. _

"_Ziva," Adi says, "Ziva!"_

_Ziva looks at her best-friend, seeing the pain evident in eyes that are not unlike her own. She keeps pressure on the wound and refuses to entertain the fact that her best-friend will be gone form this earth. _

"_Ziva, promise me that when you get away from Israel, and I know you will, that you will go to Paris."_

_And Ziva smiles a little because it is such and Adi-like thing to say. "Why must it be Paris?"_

"_I have always wanted to go to Paris, now you will have to go for me. Promise me that you will go, Ziva. Go and see the Notre Dame and the Eifel Tower and go and stroll down the Seine," Adi breathes and her breathing is laboured and Ziva's chest hurts just hearing it. _

_Ziva takes one of Adi's warm hands in her own and holds it to her chest. "I promise. I promise," she whispers, on the verge of tears. _

_Then Adi whispers thank you and closes her eyes for the last time. And Ziva lets herself indulge in a few tears since nobody except God can see her. Softly, she starts to sing 'El Malei Rachamim' to Adi's still-warm body. Then she wipes the sweat of her brow and the tears from her face, tries to scrub the blood from her hands and goes back to shooting the people to responsible. _

"Ziva," Fearne says and Ziva snaps out of her memory. "What would you like to do?"

"I do not know. Perhaps something to eat and some sleep? I am … tired."

Fearne realizes that Ziva's struggling to adapt to being weaker. It never has been one of her strong points; admitting that she is tired, that she is sore and that she is hungry. No, Ziva David does things for herself and trusts no-one and is deathly afraid of getting hurt.

"Okay then!" Fearne stands up and claps her hands together. "Now, Annette has already made up the main bedroom - which you're taking by the way, you're the one with a broken leg - so I'll get Pierre to make us some supper."

"How many people work in this apartment, exactly?" Ziva asks, slightly overwhelmed. She had thought it would just be her and Fearne. That seems to not be the case.

"About three. Pierre and Marie are the only one's who live here. Annette comes in and works from eight to eight," Fearne replies and chuckles a little from the slightly dazed expression on Ziva's face. It's not often she gets to see her friend stunned.

And she relishes every chance she get's to see it.

xxx

The morning sun kisses Ziva's face as she awakes. The delicious realisation that she didn't have nightmares last night washes over her and she rolls over slightly in her bed. Consulting her watch. Ziva decides six is a reasonable time to get up on a Sunday. Then she notices that her crutches have fallen in the night and are currently residing on her bedroom floor.

Sighing, Ziva tries to bend down to reach them using only her top half. Her leg is far to heavy and far too broken to move. But Ziva can feel herself sliding forward and she has to garb the bedside cabinet or else she'll fall on the floor. The edge of the bed is digging into her pelvic bone and there is a pull of stitches somewhere. She still tries to reach the crutch on the floor though, if only she could just stretch a little further…

There's a crash and Ziva's lying at a terrible angle on the floor, her broken leg still in the bed somehow. Someone comes rushing in and it takes Ziva a minute before she realizes it's Marie. There is a quick mutter of, "Mon Dieu," then Marie is trying to help her get back into bed. It's a futile effort though because of the awkward position. Soon, Marie is calling for 'Mademoiselle Granger' and Fearne comes rushing in in her 'Hello Kitty' Pyjamas. Even Ziva has to hide a smile.

And Fearne just sighs and puts her hand on her hips. "How the _hell _did you get in that position?"

So then Ziva explains trying to get her crutches and Fearne sighs deeper. And then mutters, "Only you." She sets to work helping Marie to get Ziva in a sitting position on the bed and then sends Marie to make them some tea to 'quell the excitement of the morning'. Once Marie comes back, Fearne dismisses her and gives Ziva a cup.

"Well, that was certainly a way to wake me up on a Sunday morning," Fearne says, putting milk and two sugars in her tea.

"Yes, it was, wasn't it?" Ziva says, taking a sip of her own. "Why were you up this early on a Sunday anyway? The last time I checked, the only reason you would get up before eight-thirty was if it was a matter of national security. Sometimes not even then."

Fearne laughs. "Yeah, but today is a Sunday. I have Church on a Sunday."

Then Ziva's smile fades and she looks down, ashamed, at the floor. "I am sorry. I forgot," she whispers and she can feel the strange sting of tears at the back of her nose. It's embarrassing, really. Ziva should have the best memory that is possible; she was taught and trained to never forget. And she forgot one simple detail about her friend.

"It's okay, Ziva. I'm sure there are other important things to remember than my beliefs," Fearne pats Ziva's knee in what has become a familiar gesture.

"Ever the good Catholic, Fearne," Ziva whispers, "Do you still phone your grandmothers on a Sunday?"

"Yup. I phone Nana O'Donnell at two and Grandma Granger at four. Of course, since we're in France, I'll phone Nana at three our time which will be two her time and Grandma at five our time which will be four her time. They both live in Scotland. You should speak to Nana O'Donnell, not that she'll ever tell me but I think she prefers you. For a start, you laugh at her jokes and you like her lemon meringue pie! And you speak better French than me even though I'm part French and was taught by her!"

"It is a nice pie. Just because you do not like it," Ziva protests.

"Yeah, whatever. I think it's too sweet. Anyway, I'll be off to the mass at nine and then I was thinking we could have the big Sunday lunch. I still do it on a Sunday even though I don't go to my grandmas'," Fearne says and then she puts her hand over her mouth and gasps.

"Oh my gosh, Ziva. I totally forgot, you're Jewish. Damn. I'm sorry. We don't have to do lunch if you don't want to, we could go sightseeing instead. But I don't know what will be open since it's Sunday, it's been a while since I've been to Paris. I'm sorry Ziva, I don't know what I was thinking."

Then it's Ziva's turn to place a hand on Fearne's knee. "Do not worry, I am fine with Sunday lunch, it sounds delightful. Besides, Sunday lunch does not strike me as a religious action." Ziva smiles and removes her hand from Fearne's knee.

Fearne smiles gratefully. "Ziva, would you like to come to mass with me? Not for a religious thing or anything, just because I think it would be good for you to get out and a chance to rebuild your strength," she asks.

Ziva takes a deep breath and nods her head. It's time to stop being afraid, she's spent too long being afraid. Now, she is free to make her own decisions about her life; no longer is Ziva in chains. No longer is she pushed and pulled about, ordered to do things by her father of by terrorists. She is a free woman.

And she rather likes the sound of that.

xxx

It's about twelve when Fearne and Ziva manage to make it through the door of the Parisian Apartment. Ziva is leaning heavily on Fearne's arm and is panting heavily. Plonking Ziva down in a chair, Fearne turns to sit down in another, inhaling deeply. The scent of Sunday lunch is filling the apartment and making Fearne's mouth water.

"Well, that was certainly an interesting service," Fearne comments, shrugging off her thin cardigan.

"He deserved it. The man should have known better than to brush up against backside," Ziva shrugs.

"Yeah, but you didn't need to break his toe!"

"I panicked!" Ziva cries out and then realizes what she's just said.

"You panicked?" Fearne's voice is now barely a whisper. "Why would you panic? Surely you have come across that sort of thing before?"

"Yes but this was… it was the first time since…." and Ziva trails off and looks at the floor, unable to see what her admission will do to her friend.

"Ziva, you need to tell me what happened out there. You need to let me help you. I've spent two weeks trying to think of how I can bring up this conversation. This seems the only way. Please, Ziva, let me help you," Fearne says in a motherly tone. Or what Ziva perceives as a motherly tone. She can't really remember her own mother very well, let alone what she spoke like.

"I cannot, Fearne. It will hurt you and I will not hurt anybody else. I have already hurt too many people," Ziva whispers, still looking down at the floor.

"Who? Your team?" Fearne asks and Ziva nods.

"Please, Ziva. It'll only get worse if you leave it inside and keep pretending to be fine." Still, Ziva does not say anything.

"Okay." Fearne, seeing that they aren't going to get anywhere with this, changes tactic,. "Tell me at least one thing about Somalia."

Ziva really doesn't want to but she knows she better give Fearne something or she'll never let the subject go. Taking a deep breath, Ziva says, "It was cold, at night. So, very cold. I only had the clothes that you rescued me in, sometimes not even them. Sometimes I did not mind the nights, I was alone and left alone. Nobody came during the night."

"Is that why you always seem more relaxed when it's night?"

Ziva nods.

"Well now I know at least one thing. That's better than nothing," Fearne says with a pretend happiness. It's for Ziva's sake of course. The woman is the little sister she never had and she will do anything and everything to protect her. Of course, she knows that Ziva David made that promise not too long ago.

"Ziva, tell me about your team? The NCIS one. I want to know more about them."

"Why?"

"I think they were and still are an important part of your life. I would like to know about them."

Ziva's eyes soften and cloud over for a second and Fearne can tell that she's back with them in Washington D.C. "They were… like family. Gibbs was like the father figure of us all. At least that it what I think a father should be like, I certainly know my father was never like that. The relationship between all of us was not an easy one to describe. It was not merely a sibling relationship, it was something indefinable. McGee was not like a brother to me - I know a brother's love and that was not it - but it was something better. Abby and I, well, she did not like me at first but I think we came to a relationship that was too familiar to be best-friends yet too reserved to be sisters. Ducky, well that is certainly an easy relationship; he was a grandfather, or perhaps something else with the relationship equivalent, I certainly felt more at ease with him when I joined the team than I did with anybody else."

"And?" Fearne prompts. "I think you're forgetting someone there? Someone that was and probably still is very important to you."

Ziva's eyes turn from soft to hurt and bruised. Wounded. "Tony," she draws his name out with a sigh, as if it physically hurts to speak the letters. "He was my partner. And I hurt him. I trusted my father's judgement over his when I should not have. Tony… what relationship we had was something… different. He was always looking for clues about my life… I suppose I was doing the same thing. We skirted around the deep, painful things but we have only had a few serious conversations. Tony lives in his past while -"

"You run from yours," Fearne finishes and Ziva looks at her with an expression that's half annoyance and half fear - fear that someone has finally figured her out.

"Yes, exactly."

"So," Fearne leans forward, "what exactly happened in May that made you leave NCIS and end up as a prisoner in Somalia?"

So Ziva tells her. Partly because she trusts her, and partly because she needs someone to tell her how awful she was and how much of a failure she was. It's easier than she thinks, telling Fearne about her father, about Michael about how she was too scared to trust Tony, how she couldn't trust Tony because she trusted her father and she trusted Ari and she trusted Michael and look at how they turned out. Eventually she stops and Fearne remains silent, as if thinking about something.

Then, she speaks. "It sounds to me as if you were both wrong. Neither one of you is completely innocent. At the same time, I don't think Gibbs left you in Israel. I think he knew that even if he'd refused to choose between you and Tony, you would have been forced back to Israel eventually. I think he knew that your father would have cancelled your liaison if you'd have gone back with him. You've told me what you're father said and that only solidifies my opinion. And right now, I am so _angry _at your father because he knew you survived the _Damocles _and he didn't do a dammed thing to save you!"

Fearne stands up and walks to the kitchen, knowing full well that Ziva can't follow her. She can't stand to see those bruised eyes for a second more. She can't stand to hear anymore about Mossad (or more specifically, Eli David) and what they do to their team-mates. Sure, MI6 might not have the close-knit relationship that Ziva and her team obviously had but they sure as hell don't leave a member behind.

Then Fearne snaps back to reality and realizes that it's half twelve on a Sunday in Paris and that there's a roast beef coking in the oven and plates set out on the sideboard. And there's her friend sitting on the sofa; her friend who has had too much abandonment and too much loss and she's just walked away from her. Something she promised herself that she would not do.

So Fearne puts on calm face and stores the anger in the back of her mind, just to forget it for the moment. Then she walks out of the kitchen and sits down next to Ziva and offers her a smile.

Then Ziva gasps and Fearne immediately asks what's wrong.

"They will still think I am dead. They will have heard of the sinking of the _Damocles _and they will think I am dead. I need to reach them somehow, I need to let them know that I am alive." Ziva's almost bordering on frantic.

"Wait," Fearne commands, "You don't work with them anymore. Why would they have heard of the _Damocles _and why do you care that they think you dead?"

"You do not get it, Fearne!" Ziva cries. "You do not know what it is like to think that your co-worker is dead and that you will never see them again! It is hell, I have felt it. Even if they hate me and even if I betrayed them, I will not inflict more pain on them. It is not fair and I am tired of being selfish." Ziva remembers all to well feeling that pain just over two years ago. And she watched it happen.

Ziva's desperation tugs of some of Fearne's heartstrings and she places a hand on Ziva's arm. Pushing the thought that Ziva's team might not even care out of her head. After all, the way she described her relationship with them - even of she hurt them - makes Fearne think that they would have gone looking for her and therefore would have heard of the sinking. "Okay, I'll see what I can do. But first, lets have lunch. I am absolutely starving!"

xxx

That night Ziva has a horrific nightmare. It's not like the usual ones that have assaulted her in the two weeks she's been free. No, these ones just aren't from Somalia. These are ones from all moments of her past. They feature her mother, Tali, Ari, Eli and her (ex?) team.

The nightmare is twisted. She's killing all the people close to her. This time she shoots Tony and leaves him bleeding on the hot Israeli concrete. This time Tali screams when the bomb goes off and all Ziva can see is melted skin and the silver Star of David necklace lying broken in the debris and then she hears Tali's voice whispering, "Your fault," and it makes her oh so sad. This time she misses shooting Ari and shoots Gibbs instead and then Ari comes up behind her and says, "You were going to shoot me, little sister?" in a horrible, evil way that she has never associated with him. This time her mother points an accusatory finger at her and says, "This is all your fault, Ziva! I would not have had to go shopping if you were not such a greedy child. You are no longer my daughter. I have no idea who you are anymore."

Then she reaches Somalia and nothing in this segment is fiction. Not one thing is made up by her subconscious mind. There is Saleem and his evil smile that reflects in his shining knife. There is all the other men in the camp who rape her and torture her and try to wrangle information out of her. They don't succeed in wrangling information her but they succeed in breaking her body and crushing her spirit until she is nothing more than a shell. And all of a sudden it isn't a dream anymore because it's real and not fictional just as the rest of the dream was.

Ziva jolts back into reality. She does not scream or cry or do anything except lie there, paralysed out of fear. It's still dark and there are shadows everywhere in her room. Ziva knows that she cannot stay in this room, lest she go insane. So she reaches for her crutches and hobbles out of the room. Standing in the hall, she notices a door that she has never been in before and natural human curiosity dictates her turning the handle and going inside.

It's actually a larger room than she was expecting. The room is bathed in darkness but she can make out the sofa covered in those sheets that decorators use. There is a cabinet holding all sorts of fine china and crystal that Ziva would never dare touch with her bare hands and there is a small table with a lamp on just beside it. The window is in the centre of the wall opposite the door and beside the window is a baby grand piano, half covered in those ghostly pale sheets.

The darkness is comforting so Ziva does not switch on the lamp. Instead, she makes her way over to the piano and sits down gingerly on the stool, as if expecting it to break. When it doesn't, she settles herself in a more comfortable position and gently lays her crutches on the ground beside her. With a bit more room, she stretches out her hands and gently presses on a yellowing key. A very strong middle C resounds around the room.

Smiling in delight, Ziva does a C Major Scale, then a D Major, then an F Major, then C Major contrary motion, then a broken chord of C Major, just because she can. The piano is something of such delight to her. She's been playing it ever since she was four years old and it's a natural part of her. Music is such an important part of her and while Tali was always the singer and she always the dancer, the piano was an area of common ground. They would do their piano exams at the same time and their lessons were right next to each other. Tali used to remark that Ziva had the unnatural ability to make every piece of music she played sound sad.

A bigger smile replacing the previous one, Ziva racks her brain to try and think of any tunes she could play from memory. She plays the Israeli national anthem of 'HaTikvah' but it leaves her feeling strangely empty and hollow inside. Then she plays Faina Lushtak's _The Cuckoo Bird _which is a simple and cheery tune. Something inside of her awakes and she feels so happy, so, so happy. Then she plays Beethoven's _Fur Elise _because it's one of her favourite pieces ever and she enjoys playing it. She remembers that her piano teacher remarked that every pupil she had ever taught always wanted to learn this piece.

And Fearne stands in the doorway, watching Ziva through the small slither of light that appears through the doorway. She doesn't dare open it anymore. She watches her friend play with enthusiasm and joy and it gives her a peek into what Ziva would have been like when she was younger and not saddled with the responsibility that death brings. Her playing the piano only confirms Fearne's thoughts and quells her doubts and fears. In that moment, she knows.

Ziva will be alright.


	6. Pompeii

**So here's another one, folks! I think there will be another two after this and then that's us come to the end of this rather short but lovely all the same journey. This one has a lot of dialogue towards the end and that part was quite hard for me so I'd appreciate it if you cut me a tiny little bit of slack on that if you don't like it. I do promise that 'Dear Diary' will be updated soon - I've just been so focused on this, which I've been working on for over a month. If anyone has any requests/ideas for other fics then please, PM me or review. And I beg you to review, please :) **

**For Amy - 'Cause you're just so awesome :P**

**Dislciamer: It's not fair but, alas, it's true!**

* * *

_But if you close your eyes,_

_Does it almost feel like_

_N__othing changed at all?_

_And if you close your eyes,_

_Does it almost feel like_

_You've been here before?_

'_Pompeii' Bastille _

As soon as the words register in his brain, Tony asks to go home. He doesn't give a reason and nobody asks him for one, Gibbs just nods once and Tony's out the door.

He drives home and changes into an OSU t-shirt and some sweatpants and orders takeout - robotically. While he's waiting for the pizza to arrive, he puts on the movie that's already in the player.

Tony has no idea what to feel. His emotions are all blended together like soup and he has trouble picking out the different flavours. On one hand, he is so overjoyed that Ziva is alive. That she's not dead and decaying at the bottom of the Arabian Sea. On another hand, he knows what must've happened if Ziva didn't die on that ship. Tony's not blind and he's not naïve; he knows _exactly _what happens to agents when they end up prisoners in terrorist camps. The ship went down on May 28th. That means Ziva must've reached the camp around the beginning of June. It's now the end of September.

There's a hollow feeling in his stomach and he really doesn't like it.

**NCIS**

That night, a nightmare surprises Tony in his sleep.

_He tries to moisten his mouth as he waits for Saleem to come back. There's an itch somewhere and he shifts around in his chair trying to relieve it, but he only succeeds in aggravating his bruised ribs and aching muscles. _

_His captor comes back, dragging someone who looks so familiar. It then clicks with Tony that this is Ziva. This is Ziva! What the hell is Ziva doing here? She shouldn't be here. Nobody should. Tony's sluggish brain runs in circles, trying to fixate on a reason why Ziva David is in a Somali terrorist camp in the middle of the desert. _

_Then it hits him. Ziva is here to rescue him. _

_She shouldn't be here, but to be honest, he's really not surprised she is. Ziva never leaves a man behind. Even if said man doesn't deserve to be rescued. _

_She's thrown down roughly into a wooden chair but she doesn't seem to care. She doesn't lift her eyes from his and says in a tone that is touched with delight, "I am happy you are alive." _

_Tony manages to grind out, "Me too."_

_Saleem watches this exchange with hardly any interest. Suddenly, he grabs Ziva's hair and pulls a knife to her throat. "You know, I was going to torture you and make your friend watch, but I can see that it would hurt you much more to watch your friend die."_

_And suddenly Ziva's eyes go big and round and Tony shouts for him to stop and kill him instead. Saleem doesn't listen and says, "Any last words?" _

_Ziva's eyes are big and terrified and Tony knows there is nothing he can do to stop this. He has been here far too long to know otherwise. Ziva whispers, "I am… sorry, Tony." _

_Then Saleem's knife draws a big red smile from ear to ear and let's go and Ziva's body is limp in the chair. _

_The blood drips from the knife and Tony vomits into the dust. _

Tony wakes up, dripped in sweat. Groaning, he turns over in his bed and falls into another nightmare.

_It's seven am in the morning, hardly early for Anthony DiNozzo anymore. _

"_Tony, where's Jack's toy?" Kate calls from the kitchen, where she's trying to feed their eleven month son unsuccessfully. _

"_No, I haven't seen it," calls Tony from where he's on his hands and knees searching for the blue and green plastic car. _

_The TV is on in the background, tuned to some news programme. Neither knows which one, they just sort of turn it on in the morning now. Kids have a way of throwing the normal routine out the proverbial window. _

_Suddenly, footage of a bomb blast comes up on the TV screen and Tony stops searching for a minute. It's total devastation and Tony thinks that nobody and nothing could have survived that. It looks like a direct hit. The camera zooms in and Tony sees small things in the dust. A toothbrush, a teddy bear, an empty photo frame and a blue and green plastic car. Just like Jack's. The caption reads that this is footage from just outside Jerusalem in Israel. _

_The news presenter starts to speak so Tony turns up the volume, really wanting to hear what she's going to say. Kate comes through with jack on her arm and starts to speak but Tony shushes her and turns the volume up further. _

"_These are scenes from the most recent bombing in Israel. At least one hundred people died directly in the blast and at least seventy more from injury. There are still a number of people missing and searchers are digging through the rubble, trying to my find as many people as possible. It has been confirmed that Officer Ziva David of the Israeli Mossad was killed in the bomb blast. Officer David was the daughter of Mossad Director Eli David. In his statement, he said his daughter was a brilliant officer and an even better daughter. He couldn't have hoped for better. Director David said she was dedicated, focused, stubborn and loving. Director David has promised Israel that he will do everything to catch the people responsible for this. Director David has already lost his youngest daughter in a Hamas suicide bombing three years ago. She was sixteen years old. So far, evidence points to Hamas…" _

_At that point, Tony tunes out and a picture of Officer David comes up on screen. She looks serious and determined and it's obvious that this is an ID photo. Although she looks serious, Tony sees the beauty. Her heart-shaped face, her big, brown eyes and dimples that are making an appearance. The news presenter says something in the background about Officer David turning twenty-three in November and Tony suddenly feels an extraordinary sense of loss. He would have liked to have known her. Twenty-three is far too young to die. And she has already lost her little sister. Tony feels sorry for Director David - he's lost his daughters far too young. _

_Kate sees the look on her husband's face and puts Jack down on his play-mat. She touches Tony's arm. "Did you know her, Tony?" _

_Tony snaps out of his thoughts and turns to face her, a reassuring smile on his face. "No, no I didn't. But I would have liked to._

Tony wakes up drenched in sweat once more. Groaning, he swings his legs out of bed and sits on the edge, rubbing his face. "All my fault," he mutters.

_What could you have done? _The little voice inside of head whispers.

"Something," Tony mutters, "Something."

_What? Traded places with her? _

And Tony thinks of the blood and the blood and Saleem's dripping knife.

_Never met her? _

Tony thinks of the bomb blast and Ziva's picture; serious and wild yet beautiful all the same.

_See? Nothing you could have done would have made any difference at all. _

**NCIS**

Now that he can stop blaming himself, Tony starts thinking on what will happen next. He can't force Ziva back, but, at the same time, he really doesn't want her to stay away. Yet it's not his happiness that matters. It's hers. Hasn't it always been?

He's noticed that people start to look at him differently now. Especially Gibbs and McGee. They studiously avoid talking about subject's that could rise one's blood-pressure. Such as Ziva, Israel, Somalia, Mossad, Britain, MI6 or anything synonymous with the above. And it grates him a little bit because when did Tony become someone that you had to tip-toe round? Since when did he become someone that you had to triple check each word before speaking them? So the conversation dwindles in the bullpen and Tony's ridiculously grateful because it means he has time to think.

What should he do? It's obvious that he has to do something, but what? He doesn't know, but he knows one thing - he's not letting her go. He's already done that once and he's not about to make the same mistake. He thing about if they come back, they're yours is crap because what if they can't come back? What if they're being tortured and beaten? What if when you go to avenge them you find that someone's already done it for you? What if?

**NCIS**

Tony's sitting at his desk when the phone call comes in. It comes in on his desk phone and not his cell which makes Tony think that it's for business rather than personal.

"Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo speaking," he answers.

"Special Agent DiNozzo, I'm glad you answered. I was beginning to think you wouldn't pick up. This is the third time I've tried your number today," the woman on the other end of the line says. It's a British accent, definitely and it surprises him.

"I'm sorry but I was out of the office. Who is this?" Tony says, finitely confused and a little scared. The only British people he knows are the people on his mom's side of the family and it's definitely not one of them. Tony also doesn't know why there is someone trying to phone him. Yeah, if it was his cell but it's not and he hasn't been making calls pertaining to their recent case.

"This is Agent Granger from MI6," the woman says and stops there.

"Ah yeah, I've heard of you. Your Ziva's friend. The one who rescued her from the camp." Tony's sudden realization only confuses him more. Why would Fearne Granger be calling him at work?

"Yeah, one and the same."

"So, did you need me for something, Miss Granger?" Tony asks, very confused.

"Well, it's not exactly me who needs you. I do have someone here though and, although she won't admit it, I think she's been missing her partner." Tony can hear the smile in Fearne's voice and he brightens up at the roundabout mention of Ziva.

Tony hears Fearne calling her and then she says, "here she is," and he hears the sound of the phone being passed over.

Tony's throat is so dry that he has to swallow repeatedly before he can say, "Ziva?"

There's a small rustle before her reply comes back. "Hello, Tony."

And there's such joy at her voice, the one he thought he'd never hear again. The one he thought was dead and he would only hear in his head and memory. "Hi. How are you?"

"I'm… I am getting better," she says and Tony knows how it must be such a strain for her to say something other than 'I'm fine'. "How are you?"

"I'm good, even better knowing that you're alive and safe," Tony says, a lot more bitter than he intended and he immediately wants to take it back.

"I am… sorry, Tony. For everything. I should have trusted you. I should have trusted your judgement. But I could not. I trusted … Michael. I trusted my brother, Ari. I trusted my father. I could not afford to trust you, too. Yet I should have, for you have always had my back. I am… sorry," she whispers and Tony swears that he can hear the trembling of her voice that makes him think she's going to cry.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not mad, Ziva. Trust me. I'd rather have you alive and not trusting me than dead. I'm just happy your alive," he says and he means it.

"Mm, sometimes I do not know what I would prefer. Being alive is hard, death is easy," she says in a tone that Tony thinks is more talking to herself than him.

"It is, but you've got a lot to live for. You've got Fearne and you've got…" and Tony hesitates because he can't very well say the team because he's not really sure himself. He would love to say 'us', he really would, but something in his mind tells him that Ziva wouldn't think the same thing.

Ziva laughs a humourless laugh from the other end of the phone. "You see my point, Tony. But do not worry, I am not about to become suicidal."

"Well that's always good to hear," Tony says. "Hey, do you wanna speak to anyone else? 'Cause I can go and get McGee or Abby if you would rather talk to them."

"No… I would prefer to speak with you, at the moment. I was just phoning to say 'hello'," and her voice is unbearably sad.

"So what are you gonna do now?" Tony asks.

"I do not know. I am considering my options but there does not seem to be many," Ziva says and Tony knows that she's thinking. She's thinking that she'll have to go back to Israel, back to Mossad. And Tony doesn't like it any more than she does.

"Why don't you come here? Apply to be a real agent instead of a liaison," Tony suddenly bursts out because it's the only option that makes sense.

"I cannot do that, Tony, I would need to be a citizen," she says and her tone makes it sound as if he's being ridiculous.

"Well then do that too. Come on, Ziva. You know what your options are: either come here or go back to Israel. And neither one of us is keen on that one. Please, Ziva."

There's a heavy sigh. "Tony, what if they do not… want me back?" she whispers. "I hurt you -and them- a lot. They will not like me for it."

Tony grins. "Trust me, Ziva, they'll want you back."

"This will not be easy, Tony," Ziva warns.

"I never asked for easy, Ziva. I asked for you."


	7. Everything

**Hey! I managed to finish this just in time! I just want to say here (before I forget) that even though Cote is leaving the show, I'm still going to be here and will probably still write Tiva. I can't stand these people who say that they're not going to watch NCIS anymore just because Ziva's not in it. Hello, there are other great actors and characters who work hard to make entertainment for you! And peole still write and ship Jibbs even though Jenny's dead. *Rant over***

**Translations: Zadnu means _We have had evil hearts. _ It's from the vidui - the Jewish deathbed confessional prayer. **

**Please review if you're reading this. Pwetty pwease. *Cute little girl eyes* **

**Disclaimer: Disclaimed.**

* * *

_You are the strength_

_That keeps me walking_

_You are the hope_

_T__hat keeps me trusting_

_You are the light to my soul_

_You are my purpose_

_You're everything_

'_Everything' Lighthouse _

The flight from Paris is unloading at gate twenty-three at Dulles International Airport. It's actually a busy flight for September, considering there is no major holiday and it surprises Fearne how busy it is. But maybe it's like this all the time; Fearne hasn't been to the United States in over twenty years.

"I still do not see why I need to be in a wheelchair. I am perfectly capable of walking with my crutches," Ziva grumbles. The wheelchair she is in makes her feel like she's old or weak or both. And she hates it. Ziva David isn't old - not even twenty-eight - and she's not weak. She isn't.

Fearne sighs because they had this argument before they boarded the plane, in the air, when they were departing the plane and now they're having it again. "Ziva, we've already been through this," Fearne tries to explain patiently, because, really, how would she like being stuck in a wheelchair, "it's the airline's policy. Your crutches are in your luggage and you can get them once we get out of the airport. But not now. Relax, because, trust me, this will be the one and only time I'm going to be pushing you about."

If Ziva's honest, she's really nervous about being back in America. It's been a long four and a half months. It's also the people. There are about six people that are her only reason to stay in America and if they don't want her then she's on the next C-130 back to Israel. Right now, she isn't sure whether she wants to avoid the disappointment and go back to Israel right now. It would certainly be easier.

It's been about four weeks since she's been rescued and she's actually surprised at how long it's taken her to feel the way she does now. Ziva didn't expect to be feeling as right as rain (whatever _that _expression means) in a few days, but she didn't expect it to take as long as four weeks for her to be able to sleep to nights in a row without nightmares.

And almost everything hurts. There are about three eyelashes on each eye that don't burn when she moves. Of course everything hurts with varying degrees. Her leg certainly hurts more than her wrist and her back hurts more than anything. Yet she accepts it. She accepts it as punishment for all the wrongs in her life. It is justified.

"Zadnu, " she whispers softly, so softly that Fearne almost doesn't hear her. But she does. Of course she does.

"What's that, Ziva?" she asks as she tries to manoeuvre the wheelchair through the crowd.

"Oh," Ziva says, realizing that Fearne heard her, "nothing."

**NCIS**

Tony waits where everyone else seems to be waiting. He checked the flight information (all by himself, he doesn't need McMIT to do it for him anymore) and there was definitely an Agent Fearne Granger on board with an Officer David. Tony actually felt kind of… strange at that. _Officer _David. She's not Mossad anymore, but she's also not NCIS yet. So what does that make her? Officer or Agent. Officer, because, as Tony has just realized, she _is _still _technically _Mossad.

He scans the crowds, looking for the familiar face. Tony internally curses - why the hell is Dulles so busy at the start of October? Funny how he's never noticed it before, but now Tony just wants to push the fire alarm to get the crowds out the way. And he might actually get away with it thanks to his badge and the fact he works for a '_federal _agency'. But he doesn't so he contents his himself with the fact that he'll be seeing Ziva again very soon.

The others don't know that Ziva is coming. They know she's alive, sure, because it would just be plain cruel to let them think she was dead any longer. Tony smiles, remembering how Abby had cried and hugged him and chanted, "I knew it!" before going back to hugging and crying. Her reaction made him remember how much he likes delivering good news because he's in a job where he doesn't often get the chance.

Sighing, Tony sits himself down in a seat that's just become free. Maybe he should have made one of those signs or something…

**NCIS**

Ziva waits while outside the women's bathroom while Fearne goes to the toilet. She watches several people walk past with their suitcases and she sees several people reuniting with their families. They still haven't gotten their bags yet so Ziva doesn't have her crutches which means she can't walk. And Fearne specifically ordered her not to go anywhere while she was in the bathroom - or the loo as she called it - so Ziva's s stuck here for now.

The waiting gives her time to think. She doesn't know what she's doing in America other than the fact that Tony asked her to come. Ziva's stupid like that; she should've just told Tony that she was happy in Paris and that she knows she wouldn't be welcomed in America. In fact, she's not particularly sure she wants to be welcomed - a part of her can't stand people being sympathetic and nice to her when she's trying to punish herself for being so horrible and being a bitch.

Eventually, Fearne comes out and they go to get their bags. When they've got them, Ziva doesn't waste any time in asking for her crutches. Fearne refuses to give them to her because she kind of likes seeing a more vulnerable Ziva and plus it's kind of fun watching her getting frustrated - not that Fearne would ever tell her that, she's still lethal even when she can't walk unassisted.

Fearne pushes Ziva through the airport, trying to get to the doors without rolling over anyone's toes. Fearne drops her small hand-bag and her ID and several snack bars fall out and roll across the floor. Fearne abandons Ziva for a moment as she goes chasing after them and that's when Ziva sees Tony sitting down in a blue seat that looks very uncomfortable. Her breath catches ever so slightly and she finds herself realizing how much she's missed him.

He doesn't look well, at all. Tony looks like he's lost weight and he's not slept in years. His clothes are hanging slightly loose on him and he seems lost in his own thoughts. Ziva's almost too scared to go over to him but she does because he's the only reason she's in America at this precise moment. She ignores the little voice in her head that tells her he's also the reason he left.

So she forgets Fearne is there and wheels herself over to where Tony is sitting. She takes a deep breath and manages to whisper, "Tony."

**NCIS**

Tony hears his name and looks up to find Ziva's eyes looking into his. "Ziva," he breathes.

She looks… good. Okay, that's a complete lie. Ziva looks terrible. Underweight, sleep-deprived, sore and… sad. Ziva looks sad. But Tony thinks she looks beautiful, he always will think that. Ziva probably looks better than she did four weeks ago, when she was rescued.

"Hello, Tony," she says and Tony realizes that she looks almost scared of what he might say or do. It clenches his insides and it hurts.

"Hey," he says cheerily and smiles because he's not going to burden her with his feelings. "I didn't realize you were in a wheelchair," he says, motioning to the said contraption.

Ziva looks down too, almost as if she's forgotten all about it. "Oh, yes. It is not mine. I am using crutches, I am only in this one because it was the airline's policy." Tony can hear the slight annoyance in her voice and it cheers him up because it confirms that the 'old Ziva' is still in there somewhere - he just needs to find her.

"I know you wouldn't like that," Tony says.

"I do not! It is pointless. It would be better and healthier for me to walk but I had to abide by the rules or they would not let me on the flight. And I needed the flight," Ziva says and despite her grumbling, she's enjoying this conversation.

"Well I'm think you're kind of rocking the whole 'metal' look personally. It makes you look even tougher," Tony grins and then looks past her. "Isn't there meant to be someone with you?"

Ziva looks down at the ground and opens her mouth so say something but Fearne comes rushing up to her. "Ziva! What did I tell you about going anywhere? Honestly, you're worse than my little cousin that I have to look after sometimes. And he's five for goodness sake! Why did you move anyway?!"

Tony (who's rather enjoying watching Ziva getting told off like a five year old) clears his throat and Fearne looks up to see him standing there. Then she looks really embarrassed. "So," she looks at Ziva," this must be the famous Special Agent DiNozzo that I've been hearing things about." She extends her hand. "I'm Fearne Granger."

Tony shakes her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger. I wish I could say that same but Ziva never told us anything about you. Not surprising, really, she's kind of a secretive person."

"Nah," Fearne shrugs, defending her friend, "she just keeps things to herself and doesn't advertise them. There's a difference."

"Well if you say so," Tony says and then looks at Ziva. "So, shall we get this show on the road?" And before Ziva can ask him about that idiom and what on earth this situation has to do with shows, Tony starts walking, leaving Ziva and Fearne trailing after him.

**NCIS**

Everything's all fine and dandy until they reach the NCIS building. Suddenly Ziva freezes and starts muttering, " I cannot do this," over and over again as if it's some magic spell.

Fearne's totally at a loss. She has no idea what to do. Ziva has stayed with her these past two weeks and she's loved it and she's dealt with the nightmares and the panic-attacks because she loves Ziva and would die for her in a heartbeat. However, she is, after all, only human and therefore has no idea what to do when her friend starts acting like this. It's as if Fearne's frozen, and everything she knew from her training, from common sense, from life, has deserted her.

It's Tony that comes to the rescue. He unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of the car, coming round to Ziva's side in the back. He opens the door and takes both of Ziva's hands in his. "Ziva," he whispers," Ziva! It's okay. Listen to me, it's okay. Nobody's gonna hate you and nobody's gonna be nasty to you. Everyone will be so happy you're alive. Especially Abby. She cried for like a week and tacked your picture up next to Kate's."

Ziva looks at Tony with something akin to gratefulness in her eyes. "Really? She cares about _me _that much?"

Tony laughs a sad, little laugh. "Of course she does. She loves you. You're family." He smiles. "So, you wanna come out of the car now and back home?"

Ziva nods and Tony helps her out of the car while Fearne watches and realizes how great they are together. They must be great partners.

And all Ziva can think of is home.

_Home. _

And she thinks she likes the sound of that.

**NCIS **

Ziva walks (hobbles would be more accurate) into the bullpen and there is suddenly a different atmosphere. Gibbs looks up first, pushes back his chair and walks over to Ziva, standing few feet in front of her. McGee looks up, looks back down at his work and then looks up again, his face the perfect picture of shock. Then, he too, comes over to Ziva and stands next to Gibbs.

They all stand awkwardly, like actors in a play who have forgotten who goes next, until eventually Gibbs speaks up.

"McGee, call up Abby and Ducky, they'll be crazy if they miss this," Gibbs orders and McGee tries to stealthily pull out his cell.

"Welcome back, Ziva," Gibbs says and Ziva smiles in relief. He opens up for an awkward hug and Ziva steps into it gratefully. They hug for a precious few moments. Then Gibbs lets go and looks her up and down and even though he knows she's safe, his blood still boils at how think she looks and feels, how sad her eyes are.

Then he notices Tony and gives him a gentle slap on the back of the head.

"Ow! Boss! What was that for?" Tony complains although everyone knows that it didn't really hurt - even Fearne, who is watching this spectacle with amusement.

"For not telling me Ziva was comin'," Gibbs says and then smiles slightly.

"Ziva! Ziva! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! You're here and you're alive and OH MY GOSH!"

The little group all turn around as they see Abby running from the elevator. She runs straight to Ziva and looks as if she's going to give her a hug but then Abby notices her crutches and settles for flinging her arms around Ziva's neck.

Then she pulls away and gently touches Ziva's cheek, where there is a small scar and is still wet from her tears. Then she hugs her again and Ziva can practically feel the joy radiating from her. And she decided to never flinch from Abby's hugs again because she has missed how loving and gentle they are.

Eventually everyone has their turn. They introduce themselves to Fearne who actually makes known to the team that Ziva's been standing on her crutches for a long time and she's looking pretty tired. Immediately, they all lead her to her old desk that has been empty for some time. Gibbs wolf-whistles and immediately Tony and McGee go back to their own desks while Abby, Ducky and Fearne stay standing, although not quite as close to Ziva as before.

Whilst Ducky is talking to Ziva - with Abby interjecting at some points - Fearne slowly moves over to stand beside Tony where he is sitting in his desk chair. He's watching Ziva intently and is hardly blinking, almost as if he's afraid that, if he blinks, she'll disappear again and he'll never get her back.

"Hey," Fearne says softly, almost making Tony jump out of his chair with surprise.

"Geez, you learn those sneaky skills from Ziva?"

"No, although she did teach me three out of twenty ways to kill someone with a paperclip," Fearne smiles.

"_Twenty! _Last time I checked it was eighteen. Although that was nearly three years ago.," Tony ponders for a moment.

"Yeah…." Fearne draws out the word. "You know, Ziva had this boyfriend once. He was the one person she was happiest with."

"Really?" Tony says, not entirely sure where Fearne is going with this.

"Yes. She was the happiest I'd ever seen her at that point. She would phone me and she would be laughing. I met him once, when I was in Tel-Aviv for a mission. And Ziva looked so happy and carefree. Like she was seventeen again." Fearne's eyes glaze over slightly at the memory.

"What age was she?" Tony asks, intrigued now.

"Twenty-one. I think it was the year before she came to you. June 2004. Yeah, it would have been. Anyway, he was the best thing she's had in a while."

"Why? What did he do that other men didn't?"

"He made her smile," Fearne says simply. Tony just looks at her as if she's crazy.

"It's true. Any other man made her content, but not happy. Not the way it should have been. But Isaac, he made her laugh and smile. Not many men have been able to do that. You know she really loves someone when they make Ziva smile. You know she really deserves them." Fearne smiles again.

Tony kind of finds this slightly beautiful. He watches far too many movies. "What happened to Isaac?" He asks, genuinely wanting to know.

Fearne sighs sadly. "He was still in the IDF. He was killed by a roadside bomb in the Gaza strip. Ziva never spoke of him again after that. She buried it."

Tony sighs too. "Yeah… she does that. Never opens up about anything."

"She's a lot better than she was seven years ago, Tony. You guys," she motions to everyone around her, "have done that. I've seen how close you all are, and how you all care about each other. It's why I'm going back to London in a few days, 'cause I trust you guys with her."

"You're going back to London?" asks Tony and for some inexplicable reason, he's kind of sad about that."

"Yeah." Fearne nods sadly. "I have a job to do and bills to pay. Besides, I think she'll be alright. Look," she says. And Tony sees Ziva laughing at something Ducky has said.

"Yeah… I think she will too," Tony says thoughtfully.

"Just remember, don't expect her to get over this quickly. Ziva's only human and, no matter what she says, nothing in her training could have prepared her for what happened. Think of the worst thing ever, and then multiply it by ten, that's what happened," Fearne suddenly warns. Then she stops talking and they both go back to watching everyone talking to Ziva, trying to make her feel at ease. And she looks like she is. There isn't a trace of the sniffling woman that Tony comforted in the car.

Tony feels comforted by this because, if she decides to become an American citizen, it means that there's hope that their friendship/partnership could return to some semblance of normal. Normal. Tony really loves the sound of that.

Then Fearne suddenly speaks. "Just so you know, Tony, you make her smile."


	8. What Would I Do Without You

**... So this chapter is a pile of crap. Except I didn't know what else to write so I've come up with this. And I hate it so, so much. So who knows how much longer this will be. My plan has gone out the window and I've just taken painkillers so who knows what this will look like when I have a clear mind...**

**Sorry Amy. I really wanted to make this good for you and I've totally wrecked it. I'm really sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I live in the middle of nowhere... that is proof I don't own NCIS**

* * *

Sometimes_ I wake up with the sadness_

_Other days it feels like madness_

_Oh…what would I do without you?_

'_What would I do without you' Drew Holcomb & The Neighbours _

It's two weeks later and Fearne still hasn't left yet. Living out of a bag, she's staying at Ziva's apartment. It's not half as bad as you'd expect it to be. The clothes she's not wearing she washes in Ziva's washing machine and she sleeps on a futon that Ziva had in her linen cupboard. When she's not with Ziva at NCIS, Fearne's washing the dishes, buying food to replace what she's eaten and cleaning the apartment as a 'thank-you'.

Fearne does keep saying that she'll leave for London in a few days - but she never does. There's a force that's almost magnetic keeping her in Ziva's apartment. At first, she told herself that she wanted to make sure Ziva was okay, and that she was readjusting to life in America okay. Except she's now she's not so sure.

Whenever she's at NCIS with Ziva, Fearne gets so wistful that sometimes it hurts. She's not jealous - not by a long shot - but she thinks that maybe she would like the same kind of friendship/family that they have. They all care and take care of each other and it's very beautiful to watch. Even if Tony is sometimes childish, even if Gibbs is sometimes grumpy, even if McGee is sometimes slightly geeky, even is Ziva's sometimes too threatening, even if Abby is sometimes too excited, even if Ducky's stories are sometimes (okay - _most_ of the time) unrelated to the case and even if Jimmy's sometimes too awkward. In the end, it all doesn't matter.

Of course Fearne has to remind herself that most of these people don't have a full biological family of their own. She knows Ziva's only really got her father and even then, he isn't exactly winning any awards for Father Of The Year. The rest of them either have problems with their families or don't have full ones and she thinks that's a big reason why they all get along so well together. It's not just that, anyone can see that they're a family in their own right - they spend twelve hours a day, sometimes more, with each other.

Her favourite moment with them so far was a little while after she spoke to Tony. They all went to stand by her desk and they spoke of things they got up to in the summer. Ziva's face had lit up and she'd listened and responded with enthusiasm and that's when Fearne had known that she was right to bring her to the US.

**NCIS**

It's almost eight at night by the time Ziva walks through her door. A case had kept them late, simply because their suspect lived almost two hours out of DC and it had been five when Gibbs and Tony had brought her back. Then it had been another hour while Gibbs cracked her in interrogation. Then there was all the little loose ends to tie up.

Ziva sighs and flops down on her sofa. It feels so nice to be able to do that without the restriction of the cast. It hadn't been broken that badly, just a little fracture. Thanks to her sessions at the gym, she had managed to regain some of her previous strength and her weight was steadily coming back up. Her nightmares were less frequent and the flashbacks had less triggers. All in all, she thought she wasn't doing too badly considering it was just over a month and a half ago she was rescued.

There's a noise and Ziva immediately points her gun in it's direction. It can't even be called a habit since she get's a lot more startled now than she did before. It turns out that it's just Fearne coming out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel.

"Hey," she says. Then she notices Ziva's gun. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

Ziva shakes her head. "It is fine. I just forgot that you were still here for a moment, that is all." Then she stands up and turns on the television - the one that Tony had given her as a housewarming present. She still hasn't gotten used to the layout of her new apartment, not surprising really since she's been here for no more than eight days. It was remarkably easy moving into a new apartment, considering mostly everything had been destroyed in the explosion at her old one. This is her third apartment in America and she hopes it will be her last. It's also very annoying. She had only been in her old apartment for a few months and she was quite fond of it.

Fearne comes out of the bedroom she'd gone into ten minutes earlier to get changed into her pyjamas (unfortunately not 'Hello Kitty' ones this time) and goes to sit down on the sofa next to Ziva. Then she turns down the TV and turns to face her with a face that doesn't suggest the topic she's going to bring up is pleasant.

"Is everything okay, Fearne?" Ziva asks, slightly troubled by the expression on her friend's face.

"Yeah, I just wanted to ask you, if it would be okay if I could stay for a little while longer?" Then she looks down at her hands.

"Of course it is. You may stay as long as you would like but don't you have a job that you must go to?" Ziva's brow furrows. Fearne's isn't usually this timid and shy.

"Yeah… I do but I have another few weeks before I need to go back. I get a mandatory month off once a year and I always get two weeks off after a big mission. The big bosses called that stint in Somalia 'big' so that was those two weeks in Paris. Then there's two weeks here and another two before I need to go back," Fearne says, looking at Ziva and seeing concern in her eyes.

"Okay then… why would you like to stay? You're whole family is back in Britain, Fearne."

"Not really, Ziva." Fearne sighs. "It's really only my grandparents and my parents. I don't have my own family. I don't have any brothers or sisters. I don't have a partner and I don't have kids. What exactly is it that I would be going back to?" Fearne sighs again.

"Fearne, you have just said what you would be going back to. Your family. A job that I know you love. If you want a partner and children then you have to go fight for it. Life is not something that comes to your door, you have to go out and get it," Ziva says, not entirely sure what she's meant to say.

Fearne suddenly becomes more animated and passionate. "That's easy for you to say, Ziva. You have your own family! You've got the team and Dr Mallard and Abby and Palmer and probably the director's slightly friendlier to you guys than he is to most agents. You have a good job and you live in the freaking land of opportunities!"

Ziva sighs, a sigh that could rival Fearne. She has no idea what she's talking about. Ziva has no more or less than Fearne. She doesn't have a partner (as in the 'life' sense) and she doesn't have children. And she's not that much younger than Fearne either.

Ziva stands up and moves away from the sofa. Fearne follows her into the kitchen. "Stop it, Fearne! You are being…" pausing, because she can't remember the English word, Ziva switches sentences. "Please stop. I do not like this side of you. It is very unbecoming. We have the same things, just in very different contexts. So please, do not talk about this subject until you can come up with a valid point."

Then Ziva walks away. Fearne lets her and she is left looking at what a mess she has created.

**NCIS**

It's the following afternoon before Ziva and Fearne finally speak to each other again.

It's raining and Ziva's watching it pour from the window, wondering where all the time went. It seems like almost last week that she was bursting through her apartment door to see Michael and Tony on the floor. Yet it also seems so far away… as if all that is behind her now. Is it or is she just merely clutching straws?

Fearne comes up behind her and taps her on the shoulder, looking sheepish. "I… um… just wanted to say that I'm sorry, Ziva. I shouldn't have said what I did and I don't think I even really meant it. I was tired, and frustrated and you were the person I took it out on when I shouldn't have. I am so, so sorry."

Ziva considers Fearne's apology for a second. Ziva's always had the policy that if someone said something to you in a fit of anger, that was probably their true feelings. Except that Fearne's an open book and Ziva knows that she didn't mean what she said, at all. Besides, it's not as if Ziva hasn't said things that she didn't mean before.

"It is okay. I forgive you. I know you did not mean it," Ziva says and then smiles, before resuming looking out of the window. Sometimes she misses living in the desert and other times she very much is glad she doesn't live in the desert. It's cold here, and it rains and it snows and she didn't have those things a lot growing up. It reminds her of new beginnings, of the stark contrast between that life and this one.

It's very different and she's very glad about that.

**NCIS**

The squad room is already bustling by the time Ziva walks in. It's only ten thirty but she supposes that's late in NCIS time considering some people get to work at four. It's not her fault - it's her mandatory psych evaluations that she has to complete. They're horrible and it takes all of her strength not to tell the doctor where to go and what to do when she gets there.

Tony looks up as soon as she walks in and the look he gives her makes her want to walk back out again. He's been watching her a lot lately, almost as if she'll disappear if he blinks and although it's touching, it's annoying her because Ziva doesn't need a watchman.

"Hey," he says immediately, "How'd the psych evaluation go?" When she doesn't answer immediately, his hands stills on the keyboard and his face takes on a look of alarm. "Well?" he prompts.

"It was fine, Tony," Ziva says, a little harsher than she initially meant to.

"Oh, that's good then," Tony says and his hands starts typing on the keyboard.

They don't talk again until later that day, after everyone else has gone out to interview witnesses and try and solve a case. Ziva feels left out; she's still not technically clear to go out in the field which means she's left clearing up paper-work. It's tedious and boring and it makes her day longer but she'll do it forever if it means she gets to stay in America.

She gets up and goes to the ladies room, jus to get away from the tension more than anything else. It's almost unbearable and it's getting to the point that she needs to get out of there otherwise someone will be on the receiving end of her knife.

Once in the bathroom, Ziva fills the sink with water and puts her head in and then brings it back out. Staring at her reflection, she notices that her eyes seem funny. Dead, she thinks, and dull. That's all she is now: so dull that she may as well be dead.

Tony sneaks in and closes the door behind him, watching Ziva at the sinks. She's different today than she has been these past two weeks. More subdued and snippy and that equates to something being wrong because Ziva and subdued do not go together well.

"Hey," he whispers and Ziva jumps, startled. That's another thing that's wrong; since when does Ziva startle?

"Tony, if you have come here to ask me how my psychological evaluations went again I have already told you they were fine," she says and she leans casually against the rim of the sink but Tony can see her hand shaking.

"I haven't come here to ask you about that," he says softly (even though he would like to know how they went as well), "I want to know what's wrong. You seem different today."

"Of course I'm different, Tony. Everything is different now." Ziva's voice is soft and it reminds him of how calm it is before an earthquake, or a tsunami, or a tornado. He's waiting for it to hit.

"Except that it was more different today. You wanna tell me what's going on?"

"No." Her voice is flat, like a wrong note on the piano. It sounds wrong.

"You sure? Sometimes talking helps." Tony inches closer to Ziva, taking care not to seem threatening.

"Your are not Dr Bracco. Please do not pretend to be like her," Ziva sighs, exasperated.

"I'm not," Tony assures her, "I'm just trying to help you."

"Ok."

"Ok?"

"Okay, I will tell you!" Ziva cries. "Are you happy now?"

Tony grins. "Very."

"It is Fearne. She says she has no reason to go back to London. That she has no family of her own. I want to make her see that it is not true, but I am afraid that she will not listen to me." Ziva's eyes look to the floor and study the linoleum, committing the criss-crossing lines to memory.

"What about her job?" Tony asks.

"Fearne does not feel the same way about her job as we do. We are like family, her MI6 team are just her team. They work together and would take a bullet for each other and are quite possibly friends, but they all have a family of their own. They have no need for another one." Ziva sighs deeply.

"Fearne should start a family, you can't wait for something like that to come to you. If her family is back in the UK then she should go back to the UK," Tony says and Ziva's eyes meet his once more, looking brighter with some life in them.

"That is exactly what I said!"

"Look, explain to her that staying here won't solve the problem and although you really don't mind her staying, her life isn't here. It's in London. You can't run from your life forever." And as Tony says that, he knows that he didn't just mean Fearne and he can see from Ziva's lowered eyes and guarded features that she knows it too.

"Thank you, Tony," she whispers and then walks past him, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

_Everything is different now._

Of course it is and Tony wants to reverse time back to when everything was okay.

Except he can't because he's only human. And he knows that.

Being right has never been more disappointing.


	9. Little Wonders

**So this is the end of our little journey together. It was a very nice journey even if I do say so myself. I really wanted this up last night so it would have been completed in July but oh well, it's close enough. Please review the final chapter, pretty please :)**

**To Amy: So this is the end of your present, I hope I did your idea justice. I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoyed reading it! Thank you for inspiring me!**

* * *

_Let it go,__  
Let it roll right off your shoulder  
Don't you know  
The hardest part is over_

_'Little Wonders' Rob Thomas _

Ziva walks through her front door at a more reasonable time that night, her whole demeanor suggesting that she means business. Putting her SIG down on her coffee table, she calls Fearne's name to see if she's in the apartment. After the third shout when there is no answer, Ziva walks through to the kitchen to take one of her vitamins that she's been prescribed. They're all different colours and they make a rainbow in a bottle. Today's is a green one; her favourite colour.

While Ziva is taking her vitamins, Fearne meanders into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Ziva whirls around to face her and says, "We need to talk."

Fearne, who has stopped rubbing the sleep from her eyes and is now rummaging through Ziva's cupboards for the coffee she bought the other day, stops and turns around. "Sure. What do we need to talk about?" In that small space, it sounds like Fearne's English accent is trying too hard to be American.

"We need to talk about you, and London, and MI6," Ziva says, trying not to let Fearne see how much she really doesn't want to have this conversation on a day when her head is pounding. Weakness, as she calls showing if you're ill, is something she will never show. Ziva David will not be weak. Not again.

Ziva walks through to her sofa and sits down, waiting for Fearne to come and join her. When she does, Ziva immediately turns of the television that's been murmuring away to itself quietly all this time. There can be no distractions and nothing to change the subject.

Ziva turns to Fearne, takes a deep breath and begins. "Fearne, you need to go back to London," she says, straightforward. Quick and simple, like tearing off a plaster.

Fearne, who is also going for the straightforward approach says, "I can't."

"Yes, you can. You only do not want to go back to London because you feel that you do not have a family of your own," Ziva says.

"So I don't want to go back to the UK, you know why, Ziva." Fearne starts to fiddle with the cushion cover.

"No, I do not. I know the reason you are telling me why you do not want to go back, but I do not think it is the real one. So please, tell me why you do not want to go back to your home," Ziva says kindly, sounding almost like the big sister she once was.

Fearne looks down at her hands playing with the cushion cover, trying to put her feeling into words. She feels like a stubborn little girl and it doesn't sit well with her. It reminds her of the time she got into trouble by one of the nuns at school, then she explained why and then Sister was so nice to her. Then the little voice inside Fearne's head laughs because did she just really think of Ziva as a nun? That would be wrong on so many levels.

"I… I just feel like I've not moved on in my life. I'm still in the same position I was practically born into. I've never liked change – the big kind – but not I'm starting to think that I'm not going anywhere and I don't like it. Whereas you… you've moved on and found yourself a home and a new life. What have I done, Ziva?" Fearne says forlornly.

Ziva reaches forward and puts a hand on Fearne's knee. "Are you happy with where you are now? With your job and your home and your family?" Fearne nods. "Then you should not worry that you have not moved, because you like where you are and what you are doing. Sometimes I look at everyone and wonder why they are so anxious to move. Standing still is sometimes better. Treasuring what you have is always better."

Then it's Fearne's turn to offer Ziva some comfort because the look in her eyes tells Fearne that she's in the past and – for Ziva – being back in the past is never a good thing. "What about you though, Ziva? You've moved."

Ziva smiles, even if it is a little sad. "I was not happy where I was," she says simply.

"Ziva, did you like being Mossad?" Fearne asks shyly.

"Yes, I did. In the beginning at least. People always assume that we are only killers but we aren't. We are also very capable investigators. It is only when my father became Director that things became more difficult." Ziva stops there and that tells Fearne to stop there as well. No more reminiscing.

"Wait," Fearne says, "You said 'we' instead of 'them'."

"I am still not officially a citizen and therefore not officially an agent," Ziva says.

"Ah, okay."

"So, will you go back to London?" Ziva asks.

Still, Fearne hesitates to answer.

Ziva leans forward. "Please do not think that I do not want you here, because I do. Except this is not about me, it is about you. I care about _you_. So please, do the right thing for you."

Fearne sniffs and tries to stop the tears that are running down her face. "I feel bad. I came here for you. To help you and now you're helping me."

"Do not feel bad! Please, you have already helped me." Tears appear in Ziva's eyes but she doesn't let them fall. She's done crying. "So, what do you say?"

"Okay," Fearne sniffs, nodding her head. "Okay."

**NCIS**

The airport scene is not the big dramatics that one expects in the movies. It's just Tony (the designated driver since Ziva's still can't drive well on her leg), Ziva and Fearne.

The luggage is all packed neatly into a spotted suitcase that has a few bashes and scrapes - most of which Ziva had a part in – somehow. Ziva stands hugging Fearne for a long while, trying not to let it show how much she's really going to miss Fearne since she's become a constant in these four weeks.

"Goodbye, Fearne," Tony says formally but then he pulls her in for an informal hug as well. Just when she's about to pull away, he whispers in her ear, "Thank you for bringing her back to us."

Fearne smiles through the tears glistening in her eyes and says, "Nothing to do with me. Something to do with a green-eyed Special Agent and family who made her feel loved." Then she pulls away and the two share a glance, a knowing glance.

"Promise me you will call when you land," Ziva says, sniffing a little and both Tony and Fearne pretend not to notice her tears. "And keep in touch! I do not want to wait months or years and it have to take a trip to Somalia to see you or hear from you again."

"I will," Fearne promises and, at that moment, her flight is called. She picks up the suitcase handle and blows a kiss to Ziva, "Goodbye." Then she nods at Tony and walks away, wheeling the spotted suitcase behind her.

Tony and Ziva stay until they watch her walk through the tunnel and then they turn around. Tony puts a hand on Ziva's arm for comfort and instead of twitching away she pats the hand back, letting him know that she's okay for the moment. That she will be okay. Just get her out of here!

So Tony does as he knows she wants him to do. And they both walk out of there, not for one second looking back.

**NCIS**

Time passes as it inevitably does.

Ziva and Fearne do not remain as close as they both would have liked, through no faults of their own. Simply their jobs are too demanding and they both lose track of how much time passes between their phone calls. There is, however, a phone call every few weeks or so and a Skype conversation at least every few months. Ziva goes to London one summer and the next summer Fearne arrives with the spotted suitcase still trailing behind her.

Ziva takes a trip to London for a different reason one summer. It's to attend the wedding of Fearne and Jonathon – afire-fighter in South-East London who was born and bred in Larbert, Scotland and has always had a passion for saving things. Fearne looks beautiful with her ivory dress and so do the three little bridesmaids that are walking in front of her, looking overjoyed to be scattering dried petals all over the aisle. Fearne later tells Ziva that she had met Jonathon before, when she was much younger and had gone to Primary school there for a year. She tells Ziva that he was the only boy who in Primary Five who had stood up for her when the other boys picked on her for having a slight Russian accent. Ziva makes a mental note to ask Ducky what age children are in Primary Five in Scotland.

Then they lose contact for a while. Fearne gets sent on a mission to South Africa and even though it's nowhere near Somalia, Ziva worries herself almost to the point of illness for a month. They have a Skype chat the day Fearne comes back and there's a lot of reassurance needed to convince Ziva's that she's alright, she's alive and nothing remotely bad (or interesting for that matter) happened to her. The only thing was a little sunburn and even Ziva has to laugh at the monumental mass of peeling sunburn on her friend's back.

There's a worried phone call from Fearne in May 2011 when she hears through various sources of the Port-to-Port killer and how he had captured Ziva. There's a lot of reassurance needed to calm Fearne's heart-rate and blood pressure. Just before she hangs up, Fearne promises to visit soon to celebrate the first anniversary of Ziva becoming a citizen since she missed the actual ceremony.

Fearne calls Tony a little after a year of them first meeting. She calls to see how Ziva really is since when Fearne asks Ziva herself all she gets is "I am fine". The two end up conversing for almost an hour and a half and most of it consists of laughing. At the end of the conversation, Fearne says to Tony, "Remember that you make her smile," and then she hangs up, leaving Tony to think about what she's just said.

A few years after her recue, Ziva receives an envelope through the post. It's post-marked as having come from 'overseas' which arouses Ziva's suspicions. Most of the post that gets delivered to NCIS is either things that she's specifically requested for her job or are job offers (none of which she has ever considered taking) so this definitely worries her. However, when she opens it, all she finds is a photograph of a girl, who is about three years old with curly black hair and beautiful green eyes. Turning the photograph over, Ziva reads a message written in familiar, loopy handwriting.

_The adoption came through! _

_Meet Natalie. She's three years old and love to dance already and she has French ancestry. \I love her so much! As does Jonathon!_

_She already knows about her 'Aunt' Ziva and can't wait to meet you. Visit soon!_

_Love Fearne x _

Ziva had known of Fearne and Jonathon's attempts to have a child and when they were told it would never be possible, she has known that they were looking into adoption. However, they failed to mention the fact that they had already found a child and that they were now in the process of adopting her.

Later that day, Ziva phones Fearne and all they discuss for three hours straight is Natalie. Natalie even comes on the phone to say hello and Ziva is immediately smitten with her. She looks and sounds so adorable. Fearne and Ziva hang up eventually, with the promise of a Skype call later in the week.

And Ziva's really happy that Fearne finally got what she wanted; a family of her own/.

Tony continues to make Ziva smile, whatever mood she is in. They solve a lot of cases and reunite more families than anyone could hope to count. Even on the days where Tony is annoying, Gibbs is mad, McGee is slightly more geekish, Ducky tells more tales than usual and Abby is mad at them for something, all Ziva can think of is that she's home.

And she_ knows _that she _loves _the sound of that.


End file.
